Go Fishing

"Time to go fishing," said a noted member of the mining community, who may or may not be raising a pack of white wolves somewhere in Arizona. So I took that advice and paid a visit to the lake after visiting the sick.

It was good to get out and try my luck against the watery opposition and perhaps you know the feeling, that sense of quiet excitement, maybe this time you'll catch the best fish ever. Or not.

This time fell into the "not" category, though I tried my best with the kind of juicy worms that fish are known to love. But they weren't having it, if they were even there at all. 

Still, getting out by the waters of the vast inland sea that is Lake Whitney made a welcome change and no one else was catching anything either, by way of consolation. 

We were in it for the Texan air, with its hint of sage, cedar and mesquite, taking a needed break from Chelsea Handler and all the other NWO stooges gloating over Alabama.

Don't worry, fish. There will be a rematch, you may be sure of that.

Fish on,

LSP

Fish On

Life at the Compound isn't just about riding and shooting, it's also about fishing and with that in mind we headed out to Lake Whitney with rods and a cooler, in search of aquatic sport. Come on, team, let's catch some fish, was my war cry, but would we?  

I wasn't sure and that was unsettling because it was important for Harrison, who had traveled all the way from the UK for a God, guns and country life in Texas experience, to catch his first fish. JS, who's a well known art philosopher,was content to watch. Exactly, watch, watch us catching fish. So the heat, as it were, was on. But I needn't have worried.

Within a few minutes of casting off, Harrison was getting bites and triumphantly reeled in his first Bluegill. Good work! That was followed up by some six more of the same, a decent Crappie and a baby Bass or two. In the meanwhile, I'd managed to catch a small if aggressive junior Bass. Slow going, LSP.

Then things took off a bit and I brought in a Bass and a Bluegill that were worth keeping. They went into the cooler and we headed back to base for a quick lesson in filleting. And I tell you this, the fish tasted better for being caught and cleaned yourself. Lake to table and thank you very much.

Excellent result, and well done H on your first fish. Mission accomplished.

Tight lines,

LSP

Don't be a Determinist Goon, Fish

Life, unless you're some kind of rubbish determinist, involves a series of free-will choices. For example, you can choose to attack the Islamist savages, ISIS. Or you can attack the regime that's fighting them by throwing missiles at their airfields. Your choice.

Likewise, you can sit staring at a computer in slack-jawed rightist consternation as our country slides closer and closer to war, or you can go fishing. I chose the latter option and loaded a couple of rods in the rig and headed to Soldier's Bluff.

The Texan wildflowers were out and I wondered if that was a good omen; Bluebonnets in flower, fish bite with power, sort of thing. But no, they didn't. The bites were sluggish and slurpy and I lost a lot of worms without closing the deal.

For the first time in months, no catch, and that was everyone else's experience there on the bluffs. Still, it was good to get out in the clean air by the lake, it always is. There's peace in it and, if the fish are behaving, excitement too.

Your Old Pal

There was another kind of excitement driving through a storm to Dallas later in the day. Lightning seared the horizon, like Tesla attempting to harness Satan, as rain crashed down onto I35. God's judgement on the metrosprawl.

Fish on,

LSP

Fish Soldier's Bluff

Well. I didn't follow my own advice and watch Leprechaun, awesome though it is, and I didn't drink any Guinness, annoyingly. But I did go to Soldier's Bluff after Evening Prayer in search of fish.

It was a bust at first and I thought it'd stay that way. Then, as the bright sun started to go down, the fish started nibbling and then biting. Out came 5 Blue Gill and one small Bass in short order. Good result.

Apart from the excitement of catching the small but feisty fish, it was simply good to get out in the open air and enjoy the view of the lake from the bank. 

I gave my left over worms to some kids, I hope they caught something, and you can view excerpts from the adventure at, ahem, Incredible Video!

Fish on,

LSP

Tranquil

They say that at the Mass, or the Eucharist, please don't say "Yewkrist," time and eternity intersect as the sacrificial act of Calvary breaks through into the present moment, uniting us with the redemptive love of Christ. His Sacrifice becomes our sacrifice, however imperfectly, and finding atonement in Him we glimpse, fleetingly for sure, the peace which passes all understanding.

Just Some Goon With his Hand up a Puppet

Of course that doesn't happen at a Clown Mass, I thought to myself bitterly, casting off in search of Behemoth Bluegill. And there's a whole lot of something that passes all understandng when the liturgical dancers kick off, and some priestess goons around pretending to be something she doesn't even believe in anyway.

Nice Little Fryer!

Then the reverie was broken by a fish plowing into my hook and the fun was on. A nearby kid asked his dad why I was catching fish, "Well, he's got worms!" It's true, I did, and after reeling in Leviathan, I gave them a couple and a hook. "Thank you, sir, you're a gentleman and a scholar," said the Father; he was keen for his boy to get a fish, and so was I. He did, too, with a little patience.

You know, I think there's something pretty good about a Father and his son, or sons, out on the water fishing. 

As the sun set, I headed for the Compound, tranquil. And that was that.

LSP

Mission Accomplished

Farsighted readers of this country life mind blog may remember that today started off with a plan. Viz. Put rod, reel and gun in the rig and head out for action, and that's what happened.

First stop, the Big Pond, hook up for Bass and cast off. I used a pink worm, I don't know why, it just seemed right. Perhaps I thought the sluggish-heat-of-the-afternoon-fish would be stirred up by the shocking pink plastic of the thing.

Whatever the case, it worked, and before too long out came a very decent Bass. Good result, they want the pink worm, so keep it coming. Sure enough, I didn't have to wait long before the hook was set and the line was playing out again. In a big way. 

It felt, in my mind, like a Leviathan Bass or a big Catfish, so imagine my surprise when I finally reeled in a turtle, a big one. Both it and the Bass lived to fight again another day.

Then it was time for dove and I joined some of the team, who were merrily shooting down an avian acrobat the size of a Condor. No kidding, it was a huge dove and that got my hopes up. I've entered the Land of the Giant Dove (LGD), I thought to myself. But it was a false peak, the birds weren't flying, though it was fun to look out on the bucolic paradise of Olde Texas in eager expectation.

After an hour or so of that, everyone fell back to HQ for a grillout and fun and you know what? That's what it was, a lot of fun in the countryside, and there's nothing wrong with that, at all.

Your Old Friend,

LSP

Swim And Fish

What do you do when the temperature soars and the sun starts to beat down with merciless intensity? Sit and stare in slack-jawed consternation at a screen telling you about a crazed Muslim axeman in Germany? 

Or wonder why a member of the Religion of Peace would stab an English woman in France and her daughters for being "scantily dressed"? I mean to say, how could anyone misunderstand Islam so thoroughly?

No. You don't stare at the screen, you take the Team to the Lake for a Fish 'n Swim, after cunningly stocking up on water, beef jerky and night crawlers. Logistics taken care of, bob those worms near the limestone shore of the lake in hope of Sunfish.

Feel the first aggressive tugs of the predatory fish, and then reel them in. Proper little fighters and big fun to catch, which everyone did. Well done, kids.

Then cool off in the water before heading to the Taco Truck for Chicken Fajita Tacos and a Torta Cubana(!). Cheap, and tasty as you like.

So a good day was had by all, outside, at the lake. Next time we'll ice up the cooler and keep some fish for dinner. But now it's time to fire up the grill for burgers.

Your Pal,

LSP

Texas Bass!

At an undisclosed location somewhere in Texas, there's a large pond. It's called "The Big Pond" and it has Bass in it, some of those Bass are large, really large, 8 lbs and up. The Team calls them Leviathan Bass because that's what they're like, monsters. I went after them this evening with Yum's famous Ribbontails, which promise: 

"The Ribbontail worm is your basic curlytail with a difference. The curl is longer than most, providing more swimming action in motion that other similar worms, and the solid body takes the abuse of multiple bass without tearing." 

So much for the marketing, did the Ribbontails walk the walk? They sure did, producing strike after strike. Widemouth Bass on The Big Pond love a dark Ribbontail and it was like storybook Bass fishing, with the ferocious predators surging, jumping and leaping out of the water at the end of the line, rod bent double. Big fun and big fish.

Did I land a Leviathan Bass? Not this time, but I'm not complaining.

Fish On,

LSP

Texas Crazy Rain

One of the things the team looks forward to after Sunday Mass is fishing, and not just any old fishing. No, we like to go to a secret location somewhere in Texas and catch enormous, absurdly large, leviathan size Bass on light rods. Just a whole lot of fun.

That plan didn't work out because of the threat of rain and because one of the team decided to go fishing in Venice instead, which is ironic, given that the place is flooded. So I went down another route, and drove to Lake Aquilla.

Not a bad option. As the storm was coming in, thunderclouds looming, boats were pulling into the ramp and the scene was soon deserted. Just me, the still-before-the-storm water, distant lighting flickering across the sky and the pleasure of trying to lure a Bass onto an enticing topwater spook.

Thrash! One of the fierce predators was lurking right near the bank and attacked the lure at the end of my retrieve. A good fight with a decent Widemouth, who lived to fight again another day. There were a few more close calls, with a small school of fish surging up and out of the water around the spook, but no strike. Still, even that was action, and action against the dramatic backdrop of the lake.

It's a new lake, like most in Texas, and before its creeks were dammed, an archeological survey was done on the soon to be flooded area and what became the lake shore. There were any number of Indian campsites and small settlements, some of them dating from the not so distant past. They'd be hard to recognize if you're not an expert; mostly charred stones from campfires and the occasional worked piece of stone. Some of the sites remain, if you have eyes to see.

I imagined those Indians as I fished, under the big, threatening sky. There they had been, hunting and fishing on Aquilla and Hackleberry creeks, in the vastness of the land. Well, the land's still vast and the sky's still the same, and before long it began to crash down with a vengeance.

Time to get back to the Compound, a glass of wine and the latest awful news from the Jihad. But before that, the sky turned ominously green and it started to rain in earnest, Texas-style. No fooling, and a good thing I had a truck because the streets were flooding as I drove into town.

If the rain continues, it will all be underwater. Is there a moral in this story?

If you care to draw it.

Your Buddy,

LSP

Super Spook

A lot of people are saying that the Team's gone off-mission. They think that the primary objective of fighting the War on Weather, building an ARK (Advanced Rescue Kraft) and fishing has been forgotten. Forgotten and replaced by theological reflection. I understand, it's a concern, but you can do both. 

Look What The Weather's Done

To prove that, I went Lake Whitney and deployed a Super Spook. No, not a well known member of the Intelligence Community, but a topwater lure. To be honest, I didn't think I'd catch anything, as the lake was choppy and well above its normal water level, all thanks to our enemy, the Weather.

Spook Caught a Fish

Still, I figured the Spook might be large and noisy enough to attract any Bass that were lurking under the waves. So I cast off, and bang, a Hybrid hit the lure like it was going out of style, then another slammed into it. Well done, Spook, you work. 

Those in Peril on The Sea

But so too does our enemy and its not been idle, sending torrential rain down onto the Lone Star State in an apocalyptic display of power. You could see that today on lake Whitney, which resembled a turbulent inland sea.

A Typical Texas Streetscape

Smart Texans are moving to high ground, building ARKs and improving their fishing skills.

Fish on,

LSP

The Awesome Power of Topwater Fishing

I know what you're thinking, all 5 of you that read this shallow excuse for a mind blog. You're thinking for someone who's always banging on about the awesomness of topwater lures, you sure don't seem to use them much. In fact, you spent the best part of Trinity Sunday afternoon fishing with a spoon, so-called LSP, if that's your real name, which we doubt.

OK, I stand rebuked, but it's a mark of character to be able to take constructive criticism and improve performance. And with that in mind, I set off for an evening of Tiny Torpedo topwater engagement with the aquatic opposition at Lake Whitney.

Lake Whitney at Dusk, Choppy

I won't bore you by saying how still, tranquil and glassy smooth the lake was, and I won't take up your time with the conversation I had with a fellow Angler, a youngish black fellow who proudly announced that he was "a Harris" and that he'd bought his rod at a pawnshop. I liked him; good for you, taking pride in the family name. Anyway, he left for Lake Aquilla and I got on with business.

In a short while Perch were swirling around the Torpedo. That got my hopes and adrenalin up, hey the Torpedo works. But no bites. Bass, on the other hand, were breaking the water off to my right towards the dam. Go where the fish are, says Fishing Wisdom, and that's what I did.

Catch That Bass! On a Torpedo

The Torpedo whipped those Bass into a frenzy and before long one was on the line, leaping and fighting. I brought him in, a decent fish, and for about 20 minutes it was fish on and big action. Exciting, one of the best things out there, as the ferocious predators explode around your lure.

Then it was dark and time to go, the awesomness of topwater fishing vindicated.

Fish On,

LSP

Topwater

Heddon Tiny Torpedo

Fishing with topwater lures can offer explosive action and big fun, no doubt about it. Bass will attack that twitching bit of plastic, hitting the lure like steam train before pulling it down into the depths, and the fight's on. 

The emphasis here is on can; a lot of the time, if you're me, poppers, torpedoes, spooks and the like produce no action at all. Still, the other day at Lake Whitney I had good success with a Torpedo and decided to read up on the subject. I found this article helpful, here's an excerpt:

Wham! When the strike came, I stifled my jerk reflex and waited for the fish to pull the bait down. Then, when I felt tension, I set back, and in short order a surprised three-pounder was flopping in my net.

Heddon Spook

...Most every brushpile harbored bass, and my Tiny Torpedo and that stay-put, irritating retrieve were the keys to catching them. Those fish never hit when the lure first gurgled into range. Instead, it was the twitching that changed their mood from neutral to aggressive. By tantalizing them long enough, the lure triggered their instinct to kill the "helpless prey" even though they weren't hungry.

So this is the object with topwater lures, to present bass with a vulnerable, unaware "creature" that is an easy target, then allowing nature to take its course.

You can read the rest of it here and learn something about the why, where, when and how of topwater lures. For me the why's simple, sheer excitement at the ferocious, leaping, impact of the Bass. 

Lake Aquilla, The Challenge Is On!

Nothing like it and while I'm no expert, the success I have had makes me want more. A lot more.

Fish On,

LSP

Get Back in The Fight

When the action goes against you, you can give up, defeated. Or you can reengage, get back in the fight and win. I chose the latter path, it wasn't easy.

After vicious setbacks, culminating in thieves stealing my rods right out of the bed of the rig this morning, I was tempted to pack the whole fishing thing in, at least for the week. But no, that would've been useless and defeated, so I rearmed.

Several Ugly Sticks and an Abu Gracia and a Mitchell reel later, there was Lake Aquilla, fish beckoning. I tried my luck by the ramp with worms, and sure enough they were biting, but no strikes. So change it up, put a red treble hook on the line and try some strawberry catfish bait. Yum, fish love that, although, to be honest, I've never caught anything with it.

First cast and... bam! Something hit the hook and ran with it. A Bass and a decent little fish at that, putting up plenty of fight and leaping out of the water like Bass are supposed to do. Great result. Reel it in.

Next up, a catfish took the line. It wasn't big but not shy of a fight either, and there it was, another fish. Then low ominous clouds scudded in from the Northeast, the wind picked up and the lake got choppy, so I called it a day.

Moral of the story? Don't give up, like a sad loser, get back in the fight and fish.

Fish On,

LSP